


Worth Every Cent

by katikat



Category: White Collar
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-07
Updated: 2010-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 18:25:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/78283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katikat/pseuds/katikat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter caught Neal - and tomorrow morning, Neal would be gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth Every Cent

"You caught me," Neal said, smiling softly at Peter. There was something in his face, in his... eyes that Peter couldn't read, but it made his chest ache strangely.

"Yeah," he nodded, smiling back, and added jokingly, "And it took me only three years."

They were standing on the roof of one of the big hotels in New York and Peter couldn't even remember which one it was, because the chase was over. It was all over...

Neal tilted his head to the side slightly and just looked at Peter for the longest time. "Peter, I..."

Suddenly, the light in his eyes dimmed and his whole body slumped forward. Peter caught him quickly and lowered him gently to the rooftop, the gravel warm from the autumn sun that was slowly vanishing below the horizon, painting the sky red and orange.

Peter just sat there, holding Neal's inert body tight, feeling it grow cold. He had to swallow hard and his eyes were burning - it was all over now and tomorrow morning, Neal would be gone, Peter knew how it went.

There were footsteps on the stairs leading to the roof, a man in a dark blue jacket and a small, silver remote in his hands, two other men in black coveralls on his heels.

"Good job, Agent Burke!" the man, Fowler, exclaimed brightly. "You finally caught him. I told Dr. Brookheim that even the 3.5 model wasn't unbeatable! But congratulations, you're the first who caught one!"

Peter gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to say something he would regret later. After all, he needed Fowler's reference, his signature on the report stating that Peter had finished the training and could finally return to his job with a promotion and a pay raise. But when he looked down into Neal's open, empty eyes...

"The data from your hunt will allow us to make the 4.0 model even better," Fowler continued, unconcerned with Peter's lack of response. "Guys, take that," he waved his hand at Neal, "away and throw it with the others. Brookheim might want to use some parts for the other working models."

Peter clenched his hands in Neal's expensive leather jacket for a moment, not wanting to let go, irrational as it might have seemed. A Doll was a Doll... But this was Neal!

But when the technicians tugged at him lightly, Peter let go and watched them carry the machine he had become so fond of during the last three years away, callously dragging it, hauling it across the roof...

*-*-*-*

El was waiting for him at home with two champagne flutes in her hands, grinning widely. "Hughes called! Congratulations!" she exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. "You're now officially Senior Agent!"

Peter accepted the glass and the kiss and the hug, feeling strangely remote from it all. He knew that he should be happy about it, but he could still see Neal in his mind - not a Doll programmed to test his skills, tailored just for him, but Neal - on that roof, looking at him as if he knew that he was about to die, to stop functioning, to be shut down...

"Honey?" El asked him in concern and touched his face gently. "What's wrong?"

Peter looked down at her and leaned into her touch for a moment, closing his eyes and gathering strength. When he opened them again, he said, "El, we need to talk."

*-*-*-*

When Peter first joined the program, he didn't really know what it was about. All he knew was that it offered him the possibility to advance his career and get a better pay grade. The task was simple - find and catch a suspect. The first two he apprehended within days, moving through the ranks of his training group at lightning speed.

Then came the revelation - they, the trainees, weren't after common criminals, simple men. No, their training "partners", their targets were machines called Dolls, made especially for each and every one of them. No two were the same, each one was an original. And because Peter was so good at his job, they offered him something special, a special Doll to track, the newest model - more intelligent, more resourceful, the most human-like.

And Peter loved it, he loved tracking and chasing the one called "Neal Caffrey", he couldn't remember ever having this much fun. It felt as if he was after a real man with strange quirks and extraordinary skills. And he couldn't wait to catch Neal, to prove that he was better than the Doll after all.

But then he learned what happened to a Doll that fulfilled its purpose and suddenly...

*-*-*-*

"You want to get the Doll," El guessed, then corrected herself, "Neal. Right?"

Peter looked at her and smiled. "I married a perceptive woman," he said softly, fondly.

She hugged him. "Of course you did, I can vouch for her intelligence."

Kissing the top of her head, Peter said, "It would be very expensive, El. For the next four years, my whole raise would go on it. That's a lot of money. A lot! You could buy a small house for that."

El leaned back. "You like him, don't you?" she whispered. "From the way you talk about him, I can feel just how much you like him. It would tear you apart if they scrapped him. Tell me I'm wrong."

Peter sighed. "I can't. When they shut him down, back there on the rooftop, it felt like he died."

Rubbing his upper arm, El smiled at him. "Then go for it, honey. Don't let him die."

*-*-*-*

The bureau delivered the box three days later together with a stack of papers three inches thick. The world knew about robots, about simple machines that helped people in their everyday activities, but not about the human-like Dolls, about the androids. Peter had to pull a lot of favors, a lot of them, and sign a ton of papers and still more were to come, that basically said that he would keep his mouth shut about the Dolls and let Dr. Brookheim and his men collect data from his Doll for further research about the behavioral adaptation of a Doll to the law enforcement environment. It was a hassle, the way Neal used to be a hassle, but Peter knew that it would be worth it.

When the delivery men had finally gone and it was just he and El in the house, Peter stepped slowly towards the box the technicians set in the middle of his living room. El leaned against one of the dining room chairs and crossed her arms over her chest, watching curiously.

The box was rectangular and man-sized, it reminded Peter of a freezer. He crouched in front of it and punched in the code on the small keypad on its side. The lights blinked a couple of times and changed from red to green and the lid hissed open. Peter pushed it up, surprised to find the metal warm. And inside, on the white, harshly illuminated pad lay Neal.

He was dressed the same way he was when Peter had seen him the last time and he was just as inert and unmoving, only his eyes were closed this time. Taking out the remote control that was tucked in the inside pocket of the box, he tapped in the code and hit the green button.

Neal jerked, as if an electric shock had hit him, then he blinked his eyes open slowly. He looked at the ceiling for a moment, then his eyes darted towards Peter who was leaning over him. He smiled. "Hey," he said.

Peter returned the smile and felt something tightly clenched loosen in his chest. "Hey," he whispered back.

Neal turned his head slightly to look at Peter better. "Not scrapped then, huh?"

Peter shook his head, still smiling fondly. "No," he confirmed.

Neal sat up slowly, took in the smiling El and Satchmo padding in from the kitchen, then looked back at Peter who moved slightly aside to give him some room. "You rescued me."

Nodding, Peter said, "And I own you now. I hope you're okay with that."

Neal nodded too and his smile grew wider. "My keeper."

Peter grinned, sat down on his heels and ruffled Neal's hair. To hell with the raise. Neal was worth every cent, he was sure of it.

The End


End file.
